Some Kind of Sad Angels
by Check it bonsly
Summary: Superwholock. John's first encounter with the Doctor was, as you could have guessed, not lacking in adventure. It was also, much to his irritation, not lacking in time travel and alien threats either.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Welcome to my first (and hopefully not ****_too _****terrible) fanfiction!  
Obviously the characters aren't mine, and neither is the basic plot (gained from a tumblr post (I just had to write it))  
Sorry if it's been done before  
Anyway, on with the reading!**

* * *

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong with Castiel?"

"..."

"Good. Keep staring, I'll get the Doctor."

With that, Sherlock pocketed his phone and marched off, leaving a very confused John Watson behind.

"Are you going to explain that call?" Said confused John questioned, now struggling to keep the pace of the taller man.

"Winchesters. Specifically, Dean." Sherlock picked up the pace, John now slightly jogging to keep up, "spot of trouble with weeping angels, need to find the Doctor."

"Umm..." Surprisingly enough the vague description didn't help John's understanding of the situation much, "could I help? I mean, if you're looking for a doctor, I-"

"Not a doctor, the Doctor!" Sherlock interrupted irritably, sparing a slight glance of exasperation as he swung a door open and barged into another room, sending a disgruntled looking man cowering back and almost dropping his stack of papers. (John took a quick second here to apologise before catching up) "-honestly never heard of him? Well, I guess it's understandable given that he isn't that well-known on earth, I suppose..."

John sighed as his friend trailed off into thoughtful rambling again, hoping that the moment of explanatory speech he had missed was as unhelpful as what he had heard. Finally, the two broke out into a busy London street. John paused in anticipation of an abrupt stop from Sherlock, resulting in him almost losing the detective in a sea of people when he instead made a sharp, decisive turn to the right. John's catching up revealed that Sherlock had finished or at least paused in talking to thin air and strode even more determinedly, pulling his mobile back out of the trench coat pocket and pressing a few buttons.

John noticed that they had arrived in an alleyway, devoid of people and silent save for the hurried pacing.

"Come on..." The impatient murmur did nothing to speed up the person on the other end of the phone picking up, but it did manage to further John's confusion.

'Who on earth is he calling?' John wondered, bemused at the sudden change in behaviour from the man in front of him at the mention of... some kind of sad angels, if he had heard correctly. How something that sounded so mundane could spark such... panic in the usually collected man concerned as well as confused him.

"Aha!" The cry of success was swiftly followed by a short and very direct message to whoever had picked up; "Here. Now. Trace the call. And for God's sake don't park so close this time." without giving time for a reply Sherlock hung up and replaced the phone, turning to look expectantly at the dead-end they had approached.

For a few awkward seconds, there was silence. Neither man moved.

Eventually Sherlock huffed and retrieved the phone. This time, the call was picked up much sooner.

"Winchesters. Angels. Weeping, not Castiel. Help." This time the phone was violently put away in what seemed to be the beginnings of a tantrum. John hesitated to take action, trying to gauge the reaction he would receive.

This trail of thought was cut short as a whooshing sound started out of nowhere. Somehow this managed to calm Sherlock, who slumped the slightest amount in relief at the noise. A breeze picked up inexplicably, circling and scattering bits of dirt and litter around the spot Sherlock was so focused on.

The noise and wind left as suddenly as they had come, and John looked past his companion for the first time, noticing the police box that had most certainly not been there before.

"TARDIS, inside. Now." Sherlock pointed at the suspicious box before rushing over and, completely ignoring the 'pull to open' instruction, pushed his way in and disappeared from view.

'But... There isn't enough room for him to go completely... is there?' John hesitantly approached the box, jumping slightly as Sherlock's head appeared round the door as he said "In" and subsequently grabbed and dragged John inside.

To the disbelief of the shorter man, he was pulled into a much larger space than there should have been from a box that size.

"Bigger on the inside. Confusing, yes, but not enough time to explain." The hurried attitude had not left, then.

"Oh come on Sherly, we have all the time in the world!" A man stood at a strange console in the centre of the impossible room half-shouted with a confident smirk, before pulling a lever in a large motion that sent the whole contraption plus inhabitants falling in all directions.

* * *

"Sherlock"

"You remember those angels?"

"No, the weeping angels"

"Me n' Sam are looking' at 'em, and-"

Dean Winchester slowly moved the phone from his ear, not bothering to try putting it away in fear of accidentally removing his gaze from the statues surrounding him. He had- quite tactfully, in his opinion- failed to detail the exact number of the stone creatures, in a bid to prevent Sherlock from going into a blind panic. In retrospect, he realised, that would probably make him assume a worse situation than the one he was actually in, given the detective's penchant for deducing. It would probably lead him to the conclusion that Dean was downplaying it somewhat, leading to an overall assumption of very bad circumstances indeed.

Not that that conclusion would be entirely incorrect, but still.

"Okay Sammy," he said slowly, "just called Sherlock. Doctor's on the way by now, probably"

This uncertain relay of information predictably failed completely to comfort the younger brother, who had his back to Dean and was currently staring at two of these 'weeping angels' at once. "Remind me why we have to look at these things? Can't the Doctor just go get us if we get sent back in time?"

"Well I guess so, but I'd rather avoid that really. Besides, we might get separated. Could take the Doctor ages to find us both. Don't wanna risk that."

At this the brothers fell back into their uneasy silence, waiting and never blinking. It was only a few seconds before their eyes began to hurt, straining with the effort of staying open.

"Is it... Possible to move away at all?" Dean asked, trying to use peripheral vision to ascertain whether an escape route existed.

"This way," Sam started slowly edging over to the side, closely followed by his brother who took on the task of looking at all three angels while Sam guided him away.

They had just managed to get a distance of a few metres from the aliens when Dean finally blinked. When his eyes opened he was face to face with an angel, face contorted with a snarl and he realised that even a millisecond longer and he would have been zapped back, especially as the grey finger, poised ready to poke him back a few decades, was almost touching his nose.

Sam chose this moment to join in the Staring Contest of Life or Death, sighing slightly at the closeness of the competition. "And after we put all that effort into moving away."

"Hey! You were the one that didn't let me turn around to blink! Team effort, Sam!" Dean spoke with a serious tone, but his face revealed that it was a joke.

Before either sibling could turn the joking into anything more serious, the familiar whooshing of the TARDIS surrounded them.

"Right, as soon as it lands we need to find it and get inside" Dean pointed out needlessly to Sam, who was trying to pinpoint where exactly the noise was coming from.

It wasn't until the TARDIS console room began materializing around them that they realised that the Doctor was parking right on them.

The ship landed fully and the Doctor ran over to the entrance, looking very surprised at the two men blocking his way.

"Oh. Well, the coordinates must have been a bit off then, unless you moved in the last minute," taking no time to greet the two, the time lord swung back around and rushed back to his beloved console, resuming in his pointless fondling of the machine.

"Hi," a British accent sounded from across the room, where the inhabitants of 221B had been stood for the last few minutes, "now can someone explain exactly what the hell is going on?"

Watson's words provoked a smirk from almost all others in the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: And in a flurry of productivity that will likely never be replicated, I am managing to post another chapter, making it three days in a row that I've uploaded something on.  
(Shameless self promotion of other fics)**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"You're saying that this... box is some kind of time machine?"

"Yes."

"And that it's bigger on the inside somehow?"

"That is indeed repeating my words almost exactly!"

"And... these crying angels or whatever are bad." John summarised as the Doctor nodded in agreement.

"... Right. Okay then." Despite the utter ridiculousness of the situation, John decided to go along with the strange man's words and hope (though it was beginning to look less and less likely that the sane option was true) that this was all some kind of sick joke Sherlock had decided to pull.

As mentioned, the sane option was none too likely.

"Right then! So, before we get onto the aliens at hand, any more questions?" The Doctor queried merrily from his place at the console. Despite his long speech of explanation he had not once looked away from the controls for more than a sideways glance to check that John was still following. He span a dial a tad enthusiastically before turning away for the first time to look expectantly at John.

"Well, the only question that springs to mind other than 'what drugs are we all on now'" at this, an accusatory glance towards Sherlock created a pause, "Doctor... who, exactly?"

At this the Doctor smirked, as if this was a frequently asked yet much enjoyed question, turning back to fiddle with the TARDIS more after getting the response he had hoped for. "Just the Doctor. Not my real name, obviously. But if I told you my real name..." at this he turned back around and continued in a tone of utmost seriousness while smiling cheerily, "I'd have to kill you."

"Enough with the theatrics already, I think newbie over here gets the point." Dean saw fit to interrupt at last, although the signs of mirth still on his face betrayed that he secretly was also enjoying the display.

"Oh come on, I don't get to do that very often!" The Doctor moaned half heartedly, not even trying to pretend that he was truly irritated.

"You do this to everyone you meet." Dean deadpanned. "Everyone"

Over in a corner, Sam cleared his throat pointedly.

"Oh! Yes, weeping angels. That's still a thing that's happening." the Doctor ended the digression there, continuing on with a more serious tone. "Few key pointers about angels, for the unaware," a pointed glance in his direction caused John to sigh and begin to regret ever getting in the blue box, "they look like stone statues, but they're not. Blink even once and you could find yourself decades, even centuries out of time. It's how they feed, get energy from the time the victim would have spent living. Pretty fast too, hence the 'blink and you die' mantra. Questions?"

"Yes," the usual culprit for confusion spoke up again, "these... crying angels" ("weeping", a helpful Sherlock put in.) "if they're stone statues, how do they move?"

"Weren't you listening?" Sherlock continued his helpfulness and took over the Doctor's explanations, "they look like statues, but they aren't. The whole point of them is that they turn to stone when you look at them. It's called a quantum-lock, and it's basically the best mode of combined stealth and defense I've ever seen."

John didn't bother asking what they looked like when no one was watching, based on the obvious principle of the thing.

"Okay. So how does this affect us anyway? We got the Winchesters out of there, panic over, crisis averted?" the looks he received told him that this was going to be a long day. With a drawn out, heavy sigh, John faced the Doctor once more.

"What's the plan, then?" The look he got in return screamed 'thought you'd never ask'.

* * *

A few minutes of a mix of ridiculous plans ("No, but you could totally just blow 'em up! With like friendship or something! Works on TV...") and actual intellectual contributions lead to the five stood gathered around the TARDIS doors, prepared to open them at a moments notice.

"So, Dean and Sam. Go... left. Sherlock and John can take right and I'll go down the middle." the four who were addressed nodded, though John still doubted that leading the angels back to the TARDIS, which he had been informed could a) provide the angels with enough power to go on pretty much forever and b) pretty much destroy the earth as it could kinda turn off the sun was such a good idea, despite the Doctor's confusing words somehow intended to reassure him("don't worry, it worked when I did it before! Well, not me me, the last me, but other than personality and looks we're the same so nothing to worry about! Oh, I worried you even more, didn't I? Got to stop doing that...")

With that, the TARDIS doors were opened and all parties went out into the night, some more enthusiastic than others.

"Right..." Dean said, finding the situation interesting given their track record with other kinds of angels, "let's go... angel hunting."

* * *

"What I don't get is how giving the angels all this power is going to stop them." Sam frowned in confusion. He had listened intently to the description of the plan and was fairly certain that no true explanation was ever given.

"Magic of friendship Sam!" Dean joked, "But seriously, it's a bit late ask now though. Maybe you should'a thought of that before we left the TARDIS." a sigh signalled to Dean that his point had got across, no matter how much Sam was annoyed by it.

Over with the detectives, John for once had more understanding than someone. Shame that he didn't know that Sam had no explanation while he had to listen to and interpret Sherlock's hundred mile an hour speech.

"It's gonna use their quantum lock against them!" Sam and Dean both jumped slightly, spinning around and coming face to face with the Doctor.

"God's sake! Don't creep up on us like that!" Dean shouted, recovering from the shock and silently glad that he didn't have his gun out, otherwise the time lord would have found himself with a face full of bullets.

"We get the angels to the TARDIS, dematerialized and leave them all looking at each other! Best bit of quantum-locking: the flaw." the Doctor had either not heard or had decided to completely ignore Dean's exclamation as he carried on explaining none too quietly, "It worked before with Sally, and she had no idea what was going on! Not that I did, when she first approached me, but I soon worked it out- and back to the angels!" after noticing the pointed looks he was getting, the diversion ended, "right, yes. Quantum-locked there for long enough and they start to starve. No energy to get from people, even if they walked right into the circle, just as long as nobody separates the angels."

"And how long would that even take? Sounds like a boring as hell way to die," Dean asked.

"I don't know, but you're right on with the boring! It'd take ages, thousands maybe millions of years for them to go completely!" The Doctor took off mid sentence, rushing back to where he had been searching previously. After his exit, a silence descended on the two.

"...How did he know that you asked that?"

"No idea."

* * *

"Ooh! Hello angel!" The Doctor smiled brightly, glad as ever to find a creature perfectly capable and willing to kill him, "Yes, follow me why don't you? Get a load of my Time Lord energy, eh?" He backed up slowly as he spoke, whipping out his sonic screwdriver and scanning it.

"Ah. Bit more energetic than I thought, you are. Well as long as the others are careful it should be fine. As predicted only a few metres of movement at a time, but four or five rather than two or three. Nice to see that you split up, by the way. Makes the whole catching you thing just that much easier. And it would have been very bad to suddenly run into three at once, if you found any of the others first that is."

The Doctor sighed, already bored of talking without anyone nearby to respond to him or be confused/ in awe of his brilliance and talking abilities. Finally deciding to start moving the angel, he took a few steps backwards before blinking. As predicted, the angel appeared centimetres from his face, poised ready to strike. He chuckled slightly at the expression before leaning back to get away from it.

"Yes, definitely hello angel."

* * *

"This search is going nowhere," Sherlock moaned. This was not the first time he had done so, and he sounded more and more like a petulant child with every time he said it. "I'm bored," he continued. ('no shit, Sherlock' Watson said under his breath) "why can't we do this with some proper investigation?"

"Because your idea of investigating is going to get us bloody well killed! If you're not careful them angels are gonna get you, and if they do, I'll tell the Doctor just to leave you in whatever time zone you appear in!" John threatened, only half joking. He'd probably leave him there for a day or so, just to make him get the idea.

"Fine," the consulting whiner conceded momentarily. "How about this. We get back to back, then both blink. The angel might come towards us, but not close enough to get us."

"And how did you figure that then?"

Sherlock looked about ready to break out the long suffering sigh, "Obviously, you didn't listen too hard. The Doctor said that the angels move metres in seconds. Look around," he gestured widely, with a fast, jerky and slightly violent movement. "No angels for metres. Clearly none are going to get close enough to touch us."

Now it was John's turn to concede. "Okay then."

"Good." Sherlock moved so that his back was just touching with John's. "Ready?" he felt the nod rather than saw it.

"Okay. Three... two... one... blink!"

As it turned out, the plan to lure out an angel was a success. Upon opening his eyes John found himself getting his first view of one. Very up close. Careful not to touch the thing, not sure whether it's sending back in time powers worked when like this and unwilling to test it, he waved slowly, the move becoming awkward because of his nervousness.

"Hello... angel..."

* * *

Back with Sam and Dean, the weeping angel had been located and the two were preparing to blink. A nod from Dean seen in his peripheral vision was the signal to do so.

"Woah." Even in the half second of blinking the angel was already only feet away. The siblings edged backwards, making sure to keep their eyes on the angel. "Okay... one down, however many hundred to go."

A few more steps back and suddenly Sam was on the floor, having tripped backwards. "The angel!" Sam shouted urgently, making Dean- who had turned to help his brother up- look back at it.

During the commotion, it had gone forwards even further, and had a tight grip on Dean's shirt.

"Good thing I turned when I did then," he laughed nervously, "okay. I'm gonna keep staring at it. Sam, get out of here. Back to the TARDIS. Get the Doctor to go look for me."

"But-" the sentence was left unfinished as Dean disappeared, having blinked while Sam was distracted.

Unfortunately, this meant that Sam spent some time looking at where Dean used to be and not at the angel. Before he even had a chance to register the fact that the creature was nowhere in sight, a tap was felt on his shoulder and the world slipped away, replaced by a swirling sea of black, then nothingness.

* * *

Back at the TARDIS, the three who had managed to regroup successfully, sans angels, were checking the area one last time before getting in and finding their two lost members.

"Right, nothing over here then. Time to get into the TARDIS." The Doctor opened the doors and entered, closely followed by a nonplussed Sherlock, and John, who was still yet to get over the bigger on the inside deal.

Again the time lord danced around the controls with a complete lack of grace, flipping switches and twirling the random parts in no particular order until reaching the same lever that sent them flying last time.

"Well then, let's go!" The results of pulling said lever were predictably the same as last time.

John couldn't help but sigh.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: And yet again a chapter posted a day later than planned because of forgetfulness and sleep. Whoops. Well it's here now, the longest chapter I've written so far! Good for long-ish chapter fans. ((Casually suggests reviewing))**

**Enjoy**

* * *

The TARDIS had finally finished doing its thing and all was calm in the console room.

"So, are we going out now?" John moved over to the door and opened it, surprised when he discovered that it was not an American city from the past that he saw, but the emptiness of space. "Woah!" he yelped as he jumped back away from the doors, slamming them shut. "Where are we?"

"Just some random galaxy, I parked here so that we can locate the Winchesters. Would've been a lot easier if the angels had gone and I could get the sonic out, read the residual energy left from the time travel, but I guess this'll have to do." the Doctor didn't look too concerned over the inconvenience, doing something on the screen in front of him involving a lot of strange circles.

"What's that mean then?" having moved away from the door, John now stood peering over the Doctor's shoulder.

"This?" A vague gesture to the circles was made, followed by a nod, "it's Gallifreyan. Language of the time lords."

"Oh, so you've learnt some alien languages?" John was now thoroughly impressed.

"What? Oh, no, no! Well, yes, but... I have learnt alien languages. All of them. But technically this isn't an alien language to me. English is, though." The Doctor corrected, taking some time to frown at the circles as they changed.

"You're a time lord? An alien? But you look so human..." John wondered aloud.

"Yes, yes, heard it all before. Your friend over there," at this he pointed to Sherlock, who seemed interested in anything but the current conversation and was fiddling with what John could only assume was some kind of alien technology, "took much less long to figure it out than normal, I must say. Very impressive, he is." John nodded absently, already aware of Sherlock's abilities when it came to working out what others usually didn't.

A phone rang out, causing even Sherlock to look confused. 'Got signal even in space, huh.' The Doctor answered the phone hesitantly, wondering just who was calling and what trouble they'd gotten themselves into.

"Hello!" He said, ever cheerful.

"What have you done with Dean and Sam?"

"Nice to talk to you too Cas. Weeping angels if you must know. I'm actually on the way to pick them up just now, if you want to come with?" The time lord offered. Seemingly the offer was accepted, as the phone was replaced after that.

"So are we going to pick this Castiel guy up?" John guessed, preparing for another trip through whatever made the ride so bumpy.

"No, I have a feeling that he'll find us." the Doctor said, "And there we are!"

"Jesus! How did you get in?" John had turned to check the door and had been understandably surprised to find a man stood there.

"No, this is Castiel." The Doctor laughed at the joke he had made.

* * *

Dean had, upon waking up in the new time zone, promptly set about finding two things: information, and alcohol. It was clear that Sam had ended up sometime else by this point, so searching for him was off the list.

He located a bar, found after a good few minutes of searching and set about finding the first thing first. "So... uh, what time is it? Day, month, year perhaps." He asked awkwardly, having approached the first guy he saw. 'Maybe direct conversation wasn't the best way to go about this' he realised in hindsight.

"Heh. You don't look that drunk," the man cast an appraising glance over Dean, "October 8th, 1927. Though I don't see how you managed to get so confused over what year it is."

"Well," Dean started, before stopping and scratching his head sheepishly, "yeah, I got nothing. Really bad at timekeeping I guess."

Awkward encounter complete, Dean walked off only slightly hurriedly towards a different empty bar stool. One down, one to go. It was time to get beer.

After this he had located the bartender and ordered a drink. That was a few hours ago.

Many beers later and he was still sat there, just now realising that he didn't actually have any money. Not that he planned on letting that stop his good time.

* * *

"So this is Castiel, an angel of the lord. He somehow befriended Sam and Dean, who... hunt demons for a living, and we're all in space on a bigger on the inside ship that has at least a vague degree of sentience about to travel through time to rescue the demon hunters because they got touched by a stone statue. That. Can. Move."

"Yes." Sherlock said with complete seriousness.

"I'm gonna need a cuppa if this gets any weirder..."

"Oh, there's a kitchen somewhere," The Doctor put in, "I'm sure the TARDIS'll let you find it, won't you girl?" At this the machine hummed, which the Doctor took to be assent.

John nodded at this as he exited the room to go and find a kettle.

The corridor of the TARDIS seemed to stretch on forever, stretching out and splitting off to create a just as endless maze. It was a miracle that he hadn't got lost yet, but he suspected that this was somehow the work of the sentient spaceship. Finally one of the doors he came across was already open, revealing the kitchen. John supposed that this was the TARDIS's work, too.

* * *

"Right!" A few hours and lots of empty mugs later the Doctor jumped into action, having found Dean.

John and the others had re-entered the room a few minutes ago and had been distracting the time lord with useless questions ("So where's Gallifrey? How do you know Sherlock? When did you meet him? Does he insult you often? I guess not, he probably doesn't even impress you. Amazing."), death threats ("How could you let the angels take them? If they die I'll kill you. Then save them from wherever they end up. Probably hell by this point. Again") and general conversation ("You haven't got anyone with you, but you haven't lost a companion recently. Not permanently. A new arrangement, you're just getting used to it. Still miss them too." "Yes, and you gained a friend a roommate who, judging by the way he acts around you when others are watching, is used to being mistaken for your partner. I'd love to know how that one started.") which had delayed the process somewhat, but not enough to make a difference.

Finally everyone was caught up and the TARDIS was being put back into action. Again the process of space-time travel began and everyone resumed falling about in a failed attempt to balance.

* * *

Things were not going well for Dean. First taken back to the 1920s and stranded for hours, now being chased down a street by an angry bartender. Yes, the man had finally realised that Dean had no intention of paying for anything and after shouting angrily at his retreating figure had decided to follow.

The man was hot on his heels as Dean skidded round a corner that lead to a dead end. He was trapped.

"Hello! Hope I'm not interrupting anything!" a voice sounded from above.

"Doctor!" and the Doctor it was. Stood on the wall, on the side facing directly downwards. He reached a hand out to Dean and aided his escape.

"W...wha'?" The bartender could do nothing but gape in incredulous awe at the display of the gravity defying men. Then his senses returned and he continued his blind rage over the stolen drinks, jumping up and trying to dislodge the pair.

"I think that's our cue to leave!" The Doctor did just that, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him along for the ride, "I love the running bit!" he yelled.

Rushing down the other side of the gravity wall they both jumped off and hit the ground running, the bartender having realised the only escape route and coming to follow them.

"Where did you park the TARDIS?" Dean yelled, ducking further into the run and narrowly avoiding a collision with a car as they crossed a road.

"No idea!" The Doctor replied, grinning even further, "that's half the fun of it!"

Dean didn't at all agree, but continued running while keeping an eye out for the TARDIS in lieu of this. A flash of familiar blue crossed his vision as he ran by a bunch of trees, and he grabbed and swung the Doctor in a smooth motion that sent the time lord straight into the TARDIS doors and not stopping before he bashed his head and collapsed against the stairs.

Dean himself took a more casual approach of entry, swinging the door closed in the face of the man they had now succeeded in escaping from. "Get up, and get us outa here!" he nudged the man's foot then kicked lightly at his back until he finally stretched out and wandered over to the TARDIS console.

"Alright, alright. If only to stop that incessant banging," he looked over at the doors, from where a distant sounding shout of 'let me in or I'll call the police' sounded amidst the pounding on the door, "good thing I also know where Sam is, so we can go straight there.

The TARDIS took flight once more, leaving behind a very miffed bar tender who could only watch as a police box disappeared into thin air with no logical explanation.

* * *

Sam came back into awareness slowly. It took him a while to remember what had just happened, but when he did he was able to quickly piece together a make shift plan: find out when he was; find out where he was after all, the Doctor had never specified whether the angels were able to send displace you spatially too.

'First things first,' Sam decided mentally, 'when I am'. He left the street he had found himself on and entered a different, more crowded one. He took the more sensible, if less exact, approach in getting information via a newspaper he found on a bench. According to that, he had ended up in 1952. Deciding that it would be a bad idea to do anything else, you never know what actions could change history after all, Sam sat down on the bench he had located. From here he had a good view, which he figured he may as well enjoy while he could. Just until the Doctor found him.

"Oh crap." He said in horror, gaining a few looks from passers by. In front of him stood a statue of an angel. Although the possibility that it wasn't a weeping one existed, he had learnt from experience that it was better to be safe than sorry. Waiting until there weren't any others on that part of the street, Sam blinked hesitantly. Sure enough, it had moved, if only slightly.

This was all kinds of not good.

Apparently he had not learnt from last time, as he failed to keep his attention on the statue. As a result, it had managed to move closer. Now it was a couple of metres in front of him. Sighing, Sam backed up, careful to keep his attention firmly on the angel this time as he moved away.

Right on time the TARDIS sounded, materializing behind him. As soon as it came properly into view, Dean and Cas piled out.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, running over to greet him.

"Don't move!" Without averting his gaze Sam stopped his brother's approach, "there's another angel here."

Dean and Castiel approached more carefully now, gently grabbing Sam's sleeve and tugging him towards safety. When they reached the TARDIS, they turned to open the doors.

Behind them, Sam, who had also been turning around to get inside the ship, disappeared as he looked away.

They had all been careless as they got closer to safety, and now Sam was gone. Again.

"Seriously?" Dean made his opinion clear. He glared at the angel, exasperation clearly written on his features. "Well I guess we have to go find him again, then"

* * *

Back in the TARDIS, parked again in the middle of space, the Doctor was trying to locate Sam.

The operative word in this sentence being trying.

"What the hell?" Dean had exploded in anger about 10 minutes ago and had been on a roll since then, still going strong with the angry complaints. "How could you let him get taken again? Seriously? Honestly, I feel sorry for all your companions. I bet they all end up being killed by your stupidity if how you're acting now is anything to go by!" the verbal attack stopped in its tracks at this point as Dean realised what he had just said.

John, used to the nerve-striking that usually accompanied being in Sherlock's presence for prolonged periods, recognised that saying that had been a bad idea despite not knowing why and sent an appropriate irritated glare towards Dean in response. Really though, from what Dean had said it was quite obvious why there would be problems.

Sherlock sighed, even with his minute understanding of the emotions of others he knew better than to say that, it seemed. "Great work Dean. Now we're going to be stuck here even longer, not looking for Sam, because of your carelessness. Think before you act next time."

John let out a laugh at the irony contained within Sherlock's condescending words. 'And just who was it that failed to see the problem in telling Molly that her boyfriend was gay? Bloody hypocrite.'

Castiel, meanwhile, was still stood at the door, not following the conversation in terms of comprehending what was going on anymore. Dean had been angry at the Doctor, but then stopped being angry because the time lord had killed people before. 'Strange...'

Sighing, the Doctor returned to his work, choosing to ignore Dean's careless and equally unintentional comment, blaming it on his, quite rightful, anger at losing his brother. Trying to work didn't last for very long however, as the atmosphere had reached levels of tension that were very distracting.

"Come on guys, let's get over it and just go back to getting along." he broke the newly developed silence, only succeeding in making it more awkward. The thousand-odd year old child shifted his feet, bouncing from side to side in discomfort. He didn't do awkward situations very well, and it often resulted in him playing the 'I'm an alien, I have no idea that anything is wrong in this scene, due to a lack of understanding of earthly emotions' card in a blatant show of denial until people started pretending that nothing had been wrong in the first place.

So naturally this was the tactic he deployed now, with dubious levels of success. "Right! I'll just go back to what I was doing here then, and John can take everyone to the kitchen!" the bait wasn't taken, "For a cup of tea?" he tried, gaining in desperation, "Biscuits? I have lots of jammy dodgers?" his tone took on a pleading edge. "Guys?"

At this John finally snapped into action. "Right! Let's go do that then!" as the medical doctor herded the others out, the other Doctor exhaled deeply in relief.

Finally able to concentrate, Sam was found within minutes. As soon as that happened the Doctor locked on to him and started up the TARDIS, much to the chagrin of the unsuspecting humans and angel who had just settled down, only to be interrupted by the customary shaking of the floor that accompanied take off.

The Doctor looked on the screen at where they were headed to and laughed, "Oh, this is brilliant!'

* * *

Sam was already tiring of the whole time travelling thing. Sighing, he pushed himself up and decided to see where he had ended up this time. Thankfully it didn't seem to be that far back, as the buildings had not changed too much in basic material. He was still in the 1900s at least, he was fairly certain.

"Hey, you seen a man go past here? With a blue box?" A man from across the road asked. Sam realised what exactly he was referring to and had to supress a laugh, "some guys thinkin' they so funny went and did a magic trick with it, see. Don't know how they managed it, but it ain't there anymore."

By this point Sam was chuckling slightly, soon beginning to laugh fully as he saw the man's angered expression.

"I bet you're working with 'em! Creatin' a diversion! Well, I won't be fooled so easy!" With that the man gave chase, dashing after Sam who had been quick to flee.

Sam resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to be finding out when or where he ws any time soon as he ran.

* * *

"What was that about?" Dean asked as he walked back into the console room. Following him was disgruntled looking Sherlock and Castiel, backed up by John, who had a distinct tea stain on his jacket and was not looking nest pleased.

"Revenge," the Doctor grinned, glancing at Dean, who nodded. Now they were even. "anyway, I bet you'll love where we've turned up!" he made for the doors, before pausing, "actually, I think it's best if me and Dean don't go out there. Any takers?"

Everyone took this as a cue to look at Sherlock and John.

"Oh, no!' John shook his head, recognising the purpose of the looks, "not with this tea stain on me."

Sherlock gave an expression that clearly told everyone his opinion on going out there alone.

Now, it was Castiel's turn to be looked at. "Okay." he said plainly, vanishing.

It was at this point that it was revealed that no one had taken time to really explain the extent of Castiel being an angel to John.

* * *

Both Sam and the man stopped in their tracks when Castiel appeared in front of them. As Sam sighed in relief at being rescued finally, the strange man just gave a look of having completely and utterly given up even attempting to understand anything that had just happened in front of him.

"Y'know what? I give up. I don't even care anymore. You win, drinks on me. Just don't come back any time soon" he muttered as he walked off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I think that this would be a good time to go back to the TARDIS." Sam said, gesturing for Cas to lead the way.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: And finally, the epic conclusion.**  
**Well, not _epic, _but still a conclusion. Successful for a first fic too, I reckon.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Ah! You were back quickly!" the Doctor watched as Cas and Sam shut the TARDIS doors behind them.

Dean rushed over to Sam and after confirming that no, he hadn't been maimed by that guy who was chasing him, gave him a quick hug to welcome him back.

"So where to now?" John asked, already resigned to the fact that the next stop would probably not turn out to be 221B.

"Back to the future!" the Doctor grinned at his own joke, which only served to elicit groans and eye-rolls from the others (save for Cas, who looked confused until Dean shot him an "I'll tell you later" look). "Yeah, I guess that was pretty bad," he acknowledged, "but anyway, technically to you we'll be going to the present. I reckon that we should keep the same plan as before, just in one group this time to avoid all this inconvenience."

John thought that being sent back in time should probably count as just a bit more than an inconvenience, but supposed that to a time-travelling alien this could actually be a trivial matter.

Everyone confirmed their understanding of and agreement to the plan, quickly filling Cas in on the basics: find the angels; don't blink; follow us and you'll be fine. After that it was time to return to where the whole mess had started off and get it all over with.

* * *

The six men piled out of the TARDIS, all but the Doctor still in the process of regaining their balance.

"Can't you do something so that we don't fall over every time we do that?" Dean complained, none too pleased with the constant dizziness.

"Aww!" The Doctor pouted, "but that's the best bit!" he ignored the irritated looks and folded his arms is defiance, "no. Even if I could, I wouldn't. Besides, the TARDIS wouldn't like it." At this, he petted the box's exterior, creating a sense of finality. Nobody bothered to argue the point, directing their focus to the, hopefully successful this time, capture and defeat of the weeping angels.

They headed out in a group. The Doctor first, who Sherlock was talking to and keeping up with, closely followed by John, who was sadly lacking in knowledge regarding the extra-terrestrial and thus hadn't been able to make very many contributions (other than "I thought you didn't know about space!" which gained the quick response of "not space, John! Just the solar system! Entirely different things, and only one of them was relevant."). Cas and Sam walked a short distance behind, engaged in their own conversation ("...then Dean called Sherlock so that he'd get the Doctor. I guess he must have done, because the TARDIS materialized around us after that!") with Dean bringing up the rear.

They hadn't made it far before the first angel was spotted. Immediately, everyone's eyes were on it, no one risking blinking in case everyone else somehow managed to do so at the same time. The angel in question stood partially out of sight, half hidden behind a nearby tree with its hands covering its eyes.

They had only been staring for a few seconds when a yelp sounded from behind them.

Cas and Sam turned around at the sound of Dean's voice, leaving the Doctor, Sherlock and John to continue looking forwards.

"What is it?" the Doctor asked, not turning around in order to keep, an eye on the angel.

"It's grabbed his neck!" at Sam's words the Doctor span around, eyes wide with shock. In everyone's attempts to keep watch on one angel, another had snuck up behind them to attack.

"Okay... you two keep angel watch upfront. Sam and Cas, keeping looking around. There's another one around here somewhere." he approached Dean carefully, looking at the angel's hand planted firmly around Dean's neck.

"What's it gonna do?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"Well..." the Doctor started, getting his sonic and scanning the stone hands, it was trying to snap your neck, but I guess we turned round at just the right time." he continued the explanation, quieter this time as to not draw attention.

"Snap my neck?" Dean exclaimed, gaining everyone's attention with his sheer volume.

"Shush! You'll distract them!" the Doctor checked that the others were all still on task, "it should be fine as long as we keep an eye on it. I don't think it had the energy left to send you back again." he explained, now checking for a way to release Dean.

As it turned out, methods of escape were unnecessary. A strange bright light shooting from just behind the angel destroyed it, freeing Dean. When the light cleared, Cas was standing in place of the statue, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Thanks Cas." he said to the non-weeping angel, smirking slightly at the Doctor's expression of utter confusion.

The time lord blinked, opening his mouth as if to speak but having nothing to say. Eventually he went for "I didn't know that you could kill them." For once he was not angry for the death, just curious and slightly relieved. "If you can do that, why don't you just destroy the other two?"

Cas nodded, and after a few seconds and two bright flashes it was done.

"Well, that was entirely too easy." danger averted, the Doctor turned to complaints, "I usually have to come up with a big clever plan or two to get rid of them and here you are with your flashy lights just breezing through zapping them!"

By now used to his antics, nobody reacted, causing the Doctor to sigh and make his way back to the TARDIS.

* * *

Back at the TARDIS, the demon hunting crew were preparing to leave.

"We'd probably stick around for a while, but there's been cases of suspicious disappearances around here. That's what we were investigating when we first noticed the angels. In fact, it was probably the angels causing it, but we better look anyway, just in case."

The Doctor nodded understandingly. "Well, I'll se you around then. Hopefully our next meeting will involve something a little bit less deadly." At these words, all those present laughed at the ridiculous notion of managing to go a day without some kind of dangerous adventure.

"Bye!" everyone shouted, waving off the Winchesters from the TARDIS doors and then retreating inside.

"Right!" the Doctor turned at last towards the residents of 221B, "time to get you two home then!"

* * *

The TARDIS landed in the flat, and John and Sherlock exited.

"Call me next time you get bored!" the Doctor reminded Sherlock, standing in the doorway to the TARDIS still.

"Yes. And you should go back to your companions." Sherlock advised, "God knows you'll get bored without them."

The Doctor nodded, closing the doors. John waved as the TARDIS left, then returned to his armchair and sat down with a slight sigh of relief.

The quiet lasted only a few seconds before being interrupted by a whining voice stating "bored!"


End file.
